Time and Time Again
by ihavenoclueman
Summary: All Amethyst wanted was to get home and spend a nice holiday break indoors and watching the snowfall. So, when Erik shows up and brings her back through space and time to the Opera House, what will happen when she knows everything about him and what is to happen in the next months?
1. Through Time and Space

**Hey, everyone! I hope you enjoy, but this is my first fanfic, so** ** _please_** **don't judge.**

 **So, I will most likely be updating weekly on Sundays. I'm just letting you guys know because I understand the angst of waiting and waiting for a new chapter.**

 **So, anyways, here comes the disclaimer:**

 **I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any other copyrighted material mentioned in this story, as they belong to ALW, Leroux, and their rightful owners.**

* * *

As I said goodbye to my best friend, Haley, the already gray sky started to drop small snowflakes on the ground.

"I'd better go," I said. "My mom will kill me if I catch a cold over the holidays."

It was the last day of school before Winter Break, and I was looking forward to doing absolutely nothing over the break.

"Yeah," she replied, "Wouldn't want you chopped to pieces with that Swiss Army Knife of hers."

I chuckled lightly. Though my mother didn't know it, she was infamous in our town for her intricate woodcarvings. She always, _always_ carved them with her Swiss Army Knife and was also know to chop vegetables faster than the speed of light.

"Nice to know someone's looking out for me," I teased though I smiled sadly.

Unfortunately, since my dad left, my mom was focused on nothing but her carvings. She would lock herself in her room for weeks at a time, only coming out for extra wood, selling the figurines, and holidays. Then she put on a performance for our relatives. She would pretend to be a perfectly happy and healthy woman, when in fact, my dad leaving hurt her more than she wants to admit, even to herself. And, while she made enough to keep us afloat, she doesn't even realize I'm there most of the time.

"Yeah," Haley replied. " I'm always here for you if you need me."

"Thanks. Now, I have to go. See you after the break?"

" You bet. Goodbye, Amethyst."

There were tears in my eyes as I hugged her goodbye, and then I set off towards my house. In the time it took for us to bid each other goodbye, the snow had started to fall more heavily. It had even started to pile up, giving the dirty pavement an angelic look.

"Looks like we're going to have a White Christmas," I muttered to myself.

Not that it mattered. It was going to be the same story, with my mom convincing everyone she was happy.

 _At least, it couldn't get worse,_ Amethyst thought.

Right when she was about to turn a corner, something caught her eye, a flash of black. She stopped, now contemplating whether to run home or investigate. It was tipping in favor of running home when someone materialized in front of her.

"Wha- W- How- Where" she stuttered. The man before her was the Phantom of the Opera, and he looked just as confused as she was.

"Wha- what in Hell is going on here?" Then he seemed to notice her. He looked her in the eyes, grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"Who are you? What is this place?" he asked forcefully. She was still so shaken that she couldn't manage even to get a word out.

"Great," he grumbled. " She's got low intelligence." That snapped me out of my trances though I was still shocked.

"Excuse me, sir," I replied testily, " but I happen to know each and every one of your secrets, so don't you dare call me stupid! Also, I know I am young, but that doesn't mean I don't know things!"

Even I was surprised at how cheeky my response was. I don't think Erik was expecting it either. Before he could respond, our surroundings flickered. I looked around wildly, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"What's going on?!" I asked panicking. Erik groaned.

"Not again…" he muttered. I felt time and space bending, and I had a feeling Erik only held on to me because he felt he was going to drop me in the middle of nowhere if I let go. Honestly, I actually didn't mind. I was already more than a bit in love with him from the many times I'd watched the musical. Even though his hands were covered by leather gloves, I could feel the ridges and grooves of his hands, and could imagine them roaming-

 _Whoa, there,_ I thought. _He only loves one woman, and you aren't her._

Erik shook me out of my thoughts by staring into my eyes.

"Mademoiselle? Are you okay?" he asked, and I was surprised to see the authentic concern in his eyes after the way he had treated me.

"Yeah," I responded. " Just a bit shaken, and…" I stopped to realize where we were, as our surroundings had stopped moving. Erik, or the Phantom as he preferred to be called, followed my line of vision, until he too realized where we had ended up.

We were in the Opera Populaire, right before Christine Daae went onstage, behind her dressing room mirror.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed that chapter, even though it was mostly backstory. As I said before, it is my first fanfic, so please don't judge!I did leave you guys off on a cliffhanger, and I will probably do that a lot because I absolutely** ** _love_** **to leave off on cliffhangers.**

 **Please review, comment, favorite, follow, as they are all confidence boosters! And, when I have confidence, chapters come out faster!**


	2. The Opera

**Authoress: Hello, lovelies! Another chapter this week! My muse has really gotten the better of me. But, besides that, you may notice something different with the formatting of this beginning.**

 **Erik: Yes, yes. You put whatever we say in front of our names. Now, can we get one with it?**

 **Authoress: No, not yet. First, you must sing** ** _for me!_**

 **Erik: Really?**

 **Authoress: You wish. Anyways, from now on I will be bringing characters into the introduction so that they may do the disclaimer!**

 **Erik: On second thought, maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this.**

 **Authoress: But you did, so take us away!**

 **Erik: *Sigh* *BLEEPED FOR PRI*- the Authoress does not own anything other than her own characters in this story.**

 **Authoress: You messed up! I thought you said you practiced!**

 **Erik: Oh, no. I am going to pay for that, aren't I?**

 **Authoress: *Evil grin* Dearly. But not in this chapter. On another note, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"What..?" I asked, very confused.

"Holy -", he started to mutter.

"Why am I in the Opera Populaire?" I screamed, starting to panic.

"Mademoiselle, please keep your voice down," he said. From his tone of voice, I could tell it was not a suggestion.

"Okay," I whispered, "Please tell me, Monsieur, why I am in nineteenth century France, in a story." He looked offended.

"I am not simply a character in a story. I am a feared mo- man." I sighed.

"Good god," I muttered. "I really don't want to start this conversation with you."

"What, that I am feared? If you know anything about me, as you have said, you know I am very formidable."

"No, the fact that you were about to say you were a monster, but I am not going to go on and on with you now," I said, exasperated. "Now, if you don't know, we just flickered through time and space. I live in the 21st century. You live in the 19th century. I live in the United States. You live in France."

He just stared at me like I was crazy.

"Hello, did we not just flicker through time and space? I'm not crazy, you know." Then I muttered, "My mother had me tested."

"Very well, Mademoiselle, I shall take you to a safe place, then I will try to make sense of your ramblings, but first, we must see an opera."

Erik took her by the hand and led her through a series of winding passageways, which ended in a column just big enough for the two of us. As he opened the hollow column, a wondrous sound flooded my ears. It took me a moment to realize the sound was Sierra Boggess' singing. He climbed out, then helped me down as well. It took me a while to realize, but I was in the middle of the 25th Anniversary musical.

As the song went on, I studied Erik's face. We sat down in the velvet seats, and I watched him as he watched the love of his life, too in depth in her singing to feel my gaze on him. He looked more like the Ramin Karimloo version than any other Phantom. As Raoul faintly sang his part of Think of Me, Erik tilted his head faintly, and I remembered that tilt from the curtain calls- this was most definitely the 25th Anniversary.

I put my head in my hands and muttered, "Great, just great."

 _When did my life become so complicated?_ I thought.

 _When Daddy left and mom started acting strangely_ , a voice in the back of my head whispered.

 _Shut up_ , I growled back. The, I felt a gaze shift towards me. I looked up and found Erik looking at me, again, as if I was crazy.

"Did I say that aloud?" I asked.

"You most certainly did. But, if you don't mind, a little louder, I don't think they heard you in Russia."

I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm, and just watched the opera. I let the music envelope me. She really did have a beautiful voice.

 _"But please say_

 _That sometimes_

 _You will think_

 _Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah_

 _-Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah_

 _-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah_

 _Ah-AHHHhh_

 _Of me"_

I opened my eyes, stood up, and clapped as loud I could, for I absolutely loved this more than watching the DVD version. I watched everyone else in the house stand up, and while hundreds of roses were being tossed onstage, I wish I had one of my own to show my gratitude.

Once she finished bowing, and the curtain fell, Erik stood up and outstretched his hand.

"My dear," he said, "I believe it is time to go."

* * *

 **Authoress: So, what did you think? I know this was a shorter chapter than last, but I just needed to get it done because this story really needs to move quickly if I am to get where I want it to on time.**

 **Erik: So...no punishment?**

 **Authoress: You will be punished, but it will be lighter than I promised. After all, it was a minor incident. If it happens again, however...you will pay dearly.**

 **Erik: Yes, Authoress.**

 **Authoress: Good. now, go compose, I need something to get me through to the next update. Anyway, thank you for reading! Ii hope you enjoyed this chapter and remember to review, favorite, comment, and follow, as these are all confidence boosters!**

 **I also want to thank Master Tigress for reviewing at such an early stage, and to respond, I will keep this story going for as long as I can.**


	3. Tunnels

**Authoress: Hello, lovelies! As promised, this chapter is out on Sunday for all of your fanfiction needs!**

 **Christine: That was so cheesy of an intro, why did you make your readers suffer through that?**

 **Authoress:** ** _HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?_** **Only Erik is supposed to be here!**

 **Christine: You left the door open.**

 **Erik: She speaks the truth. You forgot to close it once you came in.**

 **Authoress: *Sigh* Note to self: ALWAYS close the door, lest unwanted characters wander through it.**

 **Christine: Hey!**

 **Authoress: No offense, Christine. But, now that you are here, might as well do the disclaimer.**

 **Christine: Hmph. Authoress does not own any copyrighted material mentioned in this chapter, including Phantom of the Opera, which belongs to a man named Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

 **Authoress: Thank you, Christine. That actually wasn't half as bad as your "Angel of Music" over here.**

 **Erik: Excuse me? I made one mistake, the first time, and I get a bad reputation for it?**

 **Authoress: Yes, and you will just have to deal with it. But look on the bright side: at least Raoul isn't here.**

 **Erik: True, true.**

 **Raoul: *Peaks head in the doorway* Did somebody say my name?**

 **Erik and Authoress: *Groan* We spoke too soon.**

 **Authoress: Anyway lovelies, enjoy the story while I try to stop an overflow of characters from coming into my writing room.**

* * *

 _ **Erik POV**_

Her hand was surprisingly soft in his. As he led her through the darkness, he could feel her studying him. Was it the mask? Did she desire to rip it off and see what she thinks is beauty?

 _You've already brought her too close. What were you thinking, bringing her to Box Five? And she could have an eidetic memory for all you know, she could be mapping out the tunnels in her head. You don't even know what language she was speaking in!_

Somehow she had switched from whatever her native language was, to perfect Parisian French as if she was a native Frenchwoman.

 _Yet another layer of mystery to a woman who appeared out of nowhere._

He had to get her to Madame Giry, who would certainly find a place for her to stay tonight. Then he would put his plan into action….

 _ **Amethyst POV**_

He led her through the darkness, and she knew he was using only his memory to take her to wherever he was taking her. She assumed that he was going to take her to his lair, but that would never work, with his plan to make Christine fall in love with him. But, that wouldn't mean she couldn't enjoy the contact while it lasted. SHe could almost imagine those hands running up and down her arms, her torso, her face...

 _Get a grip, Amy. He's never going to do that to you, no matter how mcuh you want it. You will just have to be satisfied with the little contact you have._

 _ **Erik POV**_

He led her through the walls until he stopped behind the mirror of Madame Giry's room.

"Very well, Mademoiselle," he started, "I shall make it so your stay is as convenient as possible." She smiled slightly.

"Thank you, Monsieur..?"

Names flashed through his mind, all of them either too extravagant or mysterious to give this young girl he had given his trust to.

"Erik. But only use my name to talk to Mame. Giry. Otherwise, when referring to me, call me the Phantom, or the Opera Ghost." She nodded, and understanding shone in her eyes, more than he would have liked.

No matter, he thought. She cannot possibly know more than you do. When a little voice in the back of his head told him otherwise, he just growled inwardly and felt it shrink away.

"Very well...Erik," she told him. "I am forever indebted to you. Should you need a favor, just ask."

"I will not hesitate to do so, and if you require my services again, just ask Madame Giry. Or rather, write a letter and leave it in Box Five." He opened the one-sided glass and helped her down, then climbed back up.

"Farewell, Monsieur. May God be with you." He tipped his hat in a return gesture, then closed the mirror. And, as he walked away, he thought he hear her singing:

 _"The Phantom of the Opera is here,_

 _inside my mind."_

Then, her singing faded out, and he arrived at Christine's dressing room just in time to see a suitor come through the door, and try to steal his Christine.

Amethyst POV

Sitting on her bed for the night, she still could not have believe what had happened to her. As she recapped the events of the night, she remembered how kind both of the people she had met today were. Even the famed Opera Ghost had trusted her for some reason, and she was going to find out why.

But not tonight. She could not disturb him and his plan with Christine. Tomorrow she would visit him. To drown his sorrows, and she would have a plan of her own.

As she tried to lay down, she realized her backpack was still on her back. She took it off, opened it, and rummaged through it until she found her phone.

 _Thank God!_ she thought. I would not be able to survive without my show tunes. She found the earbuds, plugged them it, set the alarm for 6:00 AM, put Le Mis on 5 loops, and found herself drifting to sleep.

And, that night, she found herself dreaming of angels. Specifically, the one who lives under an Opera House and sits in Box Five.

* * *

 **Authoress: There you go! Your first weekly update! *Turns to the characters* How was that?**

 **Erik: It was very good, and I especially liked the part where she sang the theme song.**

 **Christine: I agree!**

 **Authoress: What did you think, Raoul?**

 **Raoul: I wasn't even in it! How can you ask me to rate it if there was no portraying of _moi (me)?_**

 **Authoress: Because you come later in the story. Also, your wife just what you said you could not do because _she had no lines either!_ Jesus, woman!**

 **Erik: *Chuckles* That was the best comeback I have witnessed.**

 **Raoul: Excuse me? I'm not a woman!**

 **Authoress: It was an accident, I just blurted it out!**

 **Christine: *Started dying of laughter, fell off the chair, and is now rolling on the floor laughing.***

 **Raoul: Sure...**

 **Authoress: *Turns to readers* So, before I get caught up in this, I just need to ask all readers to favorite, follow, review, and comment, because those are confidence boosters! Until next time, lovelies!**


	4. I Dreamed A Dream

**Authoress: Hello lovelies! Yet another chapter, and all in the same day! I really am procrastinating!**

 **Erik: Was that sarcasm?**

 **Authoress: No, I have to write an eight-page essay today, and although I already have one page done, it will be a lot harder to write the remaining seven pages.**

 **Erik: Oh...**

 **Authoress: While I was away, I have updated my door with a new lock, so that no unwanted characters wander in. And of course, Christine is not included in that portion.**

 **Erik: Should I do the disclaimer?**

 **Authoress: *Nods* Go ahead. But if you mess it up, you will be punished severely.**

 **Erik: *Gulp* Authoress does not own Phantom of the Opera, Le Miserables, or any other copyrighted material mentioned in this chapter. The only thing she owns is Amethyst Serna.**

 **Authoress: See, now was that so bad?**

 **Erik: I do not think so.**

 **Authoress: Good, do that from now on and there will be no punishments. Now, enjoy the story!**

* * *

 _Erik POV_

She looked so peaceful in her sleep. Christine, lying on the boat, with her luxurious curls spread out on the pillow. She had given him her soul just hours ago, sung for _him_ as she had never even tried. He loved her if it was possible, more than he already did when he heard those notes. Her voice was beautiful. She was beautiful.

His mind wandering, he wondered about the woman, or girl, who had appeared last night. He still did not know her name. He would have to ask it of her the next time he saw her.

 _What has happened to her?_ he thought. _Will she get the stage crew job that would allow her to stay here, or would she leave?_

He was so curious that he was going to go look for her, but before he left, he whispered a goodbye.

 _Amethyst POV_

She woke up to Fall Out Boy blasting in her ears, and for once, she was not in the mood to hear it.

 _Uuuuggghhhh,_ she thought. _What time is it?_ She glanced at her phone screen. _6:30!_ What? The alarm was supposed to wake her up half an hour ago!

"Jesus," she grumbled. _What happened in my sleep that was so important? What did I dream about that had to keep me asleep?_ Then she remembered.

"Oh." A blush crept up on her cheeks. It was a good thing none of the ballerinas were awake, otherwise, they would have seen her in her sweaty, smelly, modern clothing, and God knows she didn't need more questions than she already had.

Madame Giry had left her new clothes folded neatly on the chest that Amethyst had put her backpack in the night before. She quickly dressed, and quietly slipped out of the ballet dormitories. She followed the signs, thankful that her school had forced her to take French, and ended up on the stage. She roamed the gigantic pier, looking at the velvet seats and boxes. Amethyst closed her eyes, and imagined a crowd of aristocrats in front of her, and started to sing.

" _I dreamed a dream in times gone by_

 _When hope was high and life worth living_

 _I dreamed that love would never die_

 _I dreamed that God would be forgiving_

 _Then I was young and unafraid_

 _And dreams were made and used and wasted_

 _There was no ransom to be paid_

 _No song unsung, no wine untasted_

 _But the tigers come at night_

 _With their voices soft as thunder_

 _As they tear your hope apart_

 _As they turn your dream to shame_

 _He slept a summer by my side_

 _He filled my days with endless wonder_

 _He took my childhood in his stride_

 _But he was gone when autumn came_

 _And still I dream he'll come to me_

 _That we will live the years together_

 _But there are dreams that cannot be_

 _And there are storms we cannot weather_

 _I had a dream my life would be_

 _So different from this hell I'm living_

 _So different now from what it seemed_

 _Now life has killed the dream_

 _I dreamed."_

She sang with emotion, more than she ever had, and felt with Fantine, who had loved blindly. By the end, there were genuine tears rolling down her cheeks, and she curled up and started crying uncontrollably.

 _Like me,_ I thought bitterly. _But, at least, my childhood wasn't taken._ She managed to get her crying under control, wiped the tears off her face, and gained her composition once more.

That moment, she remembered a way into this world: Madame Giry. she checked her phone, it was 7:30. She found her way back to the dormitories, only to find the room in total disarray.

The girls, who were rushing to get ready, were a whirlwind of makeup, dresses, and hair products. I called out to Madame Giry, and thankful to see a familiar face, I sighed in relief.

"Thank God!" she exclaimed. "I was looking everywhere for you! It looked as if you were kidnapped!" Then she started fussing over me, just like a mother would.

"What happened to your hair?"

"Oh," I started, "I forgot to fix it after I went to bed."

"Well, we must fix it, we can't have you showing up to your interview like this!"

"My interview?"  
"Yes, an interview. Luckily for you, there is an open space on the stage crew, and while a woman usually does not do such work, you were brought here for a reason." The look in her eyes ended the discussion, and she quickly ushered me into her room. I stood in front of the mirror and looked down at all the products.

I barely had time to say, "Dear God…" before she started whirling around my face with brushes and powders, lipsticks and gel, to fix me for the interview.

It felt like a lifetime before she stepped back to admire her work: My hair was in a simple but practical bun, my makeup was simple and went for a subtly highlighted look, and my lipstick was light crimson. "Whoa," I said. " I look…"

"Stunning," Mame. Giry supplied. "Now, here are some clothes that I think proper for the interview. Hopefully, you will be able to get the job, and you will get housing and food as part of your pay." The, she started looking around muttering, "Where are the papers?"

"Madame Giry?", I asked.

"Yes," she replied, stopping her work to answer my questions.

"Will I ever see Erik again?" She smiled at me as if I was a child, young and naive.

"That depends on you, child. If you want to see him again, then you must contact him. Now, go change and hurry off, or you'll be late!"

As I stepped out of the room and into the bathroom, I was already thinking about what I would write to him, about what to say to catch his attention...and his love.

* * *

 **Erik: (0)_0**

 **Authoress: What? You look like you have just seen the face of Satan himself.**

 **Erik: (0)_0**

 **Authoress: Hello? Earth to Phantom? Earth to Erik?**

 **Erik: (0)_0**

 **Authoress: Okay, then. He is too shocked to speak. While he is recuperating, I will ask you to favorite, follow, comment, and review, because they are confidence boosters!**


	5. The Interview

**Authoress: Hello, readers!**

 **Erik: Finally, you changed it up!**

 **Authoress: Shut up! I'm not in the mood today!**

 **Erik: I am the _Phantom of the Opera,_ _no one-_ *sees the look on her face and stops***

 **Authoress: That's better. Sometimes I don't even know why I keep you around.**

 **Erik: I think it is because I provide a sense of comical relief. Also, I do the disclaimer for free.**

 **Authoress: Yeah, unlike Raoul, who for some reason is _really_ mad at me right now. Remind me why, please.**

 **Erik: He wants you to add him to the story. Apparently there is not enough of him in the story.**

 **Authoress: * Sigh* Remind me to punch him in the face later.**

 **Erik: I won't forget, but should I do the disclaimer now?**

 **Authoress: Go ahead.**

 **Erik: The Authoress does not own any copyrighted material mentioned in this chapter, as they are owned by their respective creators. And, on behalf of Authoress, I shall wish the readers a happy reading as it seems she is battling a migraine. From school, I am guessing?**

 **Authoress: Spot on. *Grimaces* Happy reading, lovelies!**

* * *

Erik POV

He had heard her sing, playing at being the star, as Christine had once done. Her song described his hope when he was sold to the gypsies, that he would have a better life...and his crushed dreams when he found his life was even more bleak.

 _I need to investigate,_ he thought. _I will get her to sing, as she is a diamond in the rough….but I need her to trust me. To stay, she must have a job, and she has an interview today. If she does not get the job, I will pressure the managers, and she will stay_.

The cogs in his head started turning as soon as she started singing "And still I dream he'll come to me," but stopped as he heard her sobs.

He peaked out of the box, still hidden in the shadows, only to see her curled up and crying uncontrollably. He realized that in his planning, he had missed the raw emotion in her singing, a sharp bitterness not unlike his own.

 _But, no matter the sadness, what in the hell happened to her hair?_ But, he shook off the thought. There were other things that were more important.

He continued to watch silently until she composed herself again and left.

 _She has had a similar life to mine,_ he realized. _I doubt she will be more open to telling me her story than me to outsiders, but I have to try._

As long as he was in the Opera House, she would be safe from harm. But, now he had to return to his Angel of Music. Christine would be waking soon, and he had to attend to her, for now.

Amethyst POV

She stood outside the door, poised to knock. She shook herself off, then knocked three times.

Andre opened the door, and here she realized the implications of her setting. She was in the freaking musical!

He looked at her with a quizzical face, and she realized he had no idea why she was here.

She took a deep breath to keep from fangirling and started talking.

"Good morning, Monsieur Firmin," she started, " I am here for the stagehand job interview."

"Ah, of course! Come in, mademoiselle, come in!" He ushered me in, then closed the door quickly. He gestured to a lush leather seat in front of a messy desk. He sat behind the desk on a shaky three-legged stool.

"You'll have to excuse the mess as well as Monsieur Andre, as one has not shown up while the other has made its appearance very much apparent this morning." He sighed and rubbed his temple.

"But, enough about me, tell me a little about yourself, maybe your name, and where you are from…"

My face flushed. "Of course! How rude of me! I am Amethyst Dalvia, but please, call me Amy. I am 17 years old, and I am from…Italy, but I am also fluent in French, English, Spanish, Russian, as well as basic German and Latin."

His eyes bugged, and his jaw dropped.

"Whoa….", he said as he clamped his jaw shut, "you are certainly well versed. And, how strong are you, considering that your job would be mostly physical work?"

"Well," I replied, "I could probably beat most of your men in an arm wrestling match, so I consider myself strong."

"Okay then, because the position has been open for a month, and no one else as qualified as you has come in, so you are hired."

I was speechless. Then I regained my speech and said,

"I'm sorry, Monsieur, but why…?"

"No one else has come in, and if our ushers fail to translate with the more foreign guests, we may always call you, and you may show them to their seats." When I gave him a strange look, he simply said,

"It happens more than you think."

"Very well, when should I start?"

"This coming Monday, and until then you may get settled and explore the Opera House."

"It was a pleasure, Monsieur Firmin, and thank you for your consideration."

I tipped my head in a farewell, then opened the door and left. As soon as I closed the door and was out of earshot, I screamed "Yes! I did it!" Then I started giggling like a maniac. I was snapped out of my trance by the realization that I had to write to him.

But, he'll probably be moping over Christine right about now, so it is better to go to him.

She hurried down the long corridors, and found herself in what would be Carlotta's dressing room, but she could tell that it had not been inhabited by the diva for at least 24 hours.

I stood at the mirror and was about to feel around for a secret latch when I heard a noise. I let out a shriek and jumped back as the glass moved silently back, revealing Erik forcefully leading Christine out of the dungeons.

He dropped her unceremoniously on the floor of the dressing room, then saw me, grabbed my arm, then pulled me into the mirror.

 _Dear God_ , I thought, _not again._

Erik POV

What the girl was doing in the dressing room, he had no idea. But he had nothing to lose at this point, so he pulled her in, closed the mirror, and dragged her down to his lair.

He was sure she was listening to him humming his monkey's tune to himself like a madman, but he didn't care. In fact, was she… singing along with him?

He stopped suddenly, causing her to crash into him.

"Your name, Mademoiselle, what is your name?" He said this in such a commanding voice that she answered right away.

"Amethyst Dalvia, but call me Amy," she said in a voice that was comforting, and….friendly?

 _How could she be so friendly to such a monster?_ he thought as he pulled her down into the boat.

"Erik, if I intervene your thoughts," she stated, "you are not a monster."

* * *

 **Authoress: Another, longer chapter up.**

 **Erik: How did she read my mind?**

 **Authoress: *Smirk* You'll see...**

 **Erik: *Sigh* You are only doing this to torture me, right?**

 **Authoress: Yes, but no complaining and you will get chocolate.**

 **Erik: CHOCOLATE? WHERE?**

 **Authoress: By the next update you will have it.**

 **Erik: YAYYYYYYY!**

 **Authoress: And you complain about _my_ fangirling. So, lovelies, please remember ****to favorite, follow, review, and comment, as they are confidence boosters and will help me get more chapters out! Until next time!**


	6. Down Once More

**Authoress: Hello, lovelies! I'm afraid I have some bad news for you guys...**

 **Christine: Erik ate too much chocolate, and got really sick, so now I'm here!**

 **Authoress: You sound happy about that.**

 **Christine: I'm not! I swear...**

 **Authoress: Sure... But there is other news. I am so sorry for this ultra short chapter, but I have a lot of things going on, plus writer's block.**

 **Christine: Excuses, excuses...**

 **Authoress: Shut up, or I'll write you out of the story. Now, do the disclaimer, we don't want to keep the people waiting.**

 **Christine: Fine. *Mutters* Hypocrite.**

 **Authoress: What was that?**

 **Christine: Nothing. Authoress does not own any copyrighted material mentioned in this chapter, not to mention Phantom of the Opera, which belongs to ALW and Leroux.**

 **Authoress: Enjoy, and again, I am so sorry for this short chapter...**

* * *

He drew her close.

"What did you say?" He demanded. She smiled sadly.

"I said," she started, "you are not a monster. Just because you have a deformity does not mean you have something wrong with you."

After she said that she smiled kindly, then her face went slack as if realizing her mistake.

"Oh, no…..oh, God what have I done," she muttered. Then she turned to him and pleaded, "Please don't kill me, I swear I'll explain everything once we get to our destination…"

He was too shocked to do anything but row.

At least, she trusts me enough to let me take her to the lair, he thought. It's a start.

In fact, he said internally as he glanced at her, she seems to be excited to see where I am taking her. There is a childish gleam in her eyes.

It was then and there when he realized she was different from anyone else that he had met, quite possibly insane.

Amethyst POV

She was so giddy to visit his lair, she could hardly keep from bouncing up and down. She wanted to look around, up, down, anywhere from the rigid position that she had forced her neck in to appear calm.

Yay! She thought. We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz!

She tilted her head. Wrong musical, dummy, she thought.

As she quietly watched her surroundings, she noticed a dead end in front of them.

"Um," she squeaked quietly, "Monsieur Fantôme?" My heart was beating fast. " There is a -" I was cut off with a loud "Quiet!"

He continued to row faster and faster until the we were about to hit the wall, and suddenly, it moved back, only to reveal cloudy mist just like the one in the musical.

Then she put every drop of her willpower to keep herself from fangirling and capsizing the boat. She closed her eyes and thought calming thoughts.

Deep breaths, she thought. Rainbows, kitties, Hadley Fraser with guyliner.

She managed to get her thoughts under control, and when she had, she opened her eyes. The boat came to a stop at the edge of the lair, and I was absolutely mystified. I was so entranced by the beauty of my surroundings that I didn't notice when he stepped off of the boat and up to the organ.

That is until I heard the most heart-wrenching music coming from his organ.


	7. The Lair

**Authoress: Hello again! So sorry for this short chapter, I promise the next one will be longer. Also, Erik is making another appearance!**

 **Erik: Yes, I am back! *Sniffles* Thanks to those who sent me chocolate and/or help with my sickness.**

 **Authoress: Though he won't admit it, he is still a bit sick.**

 **Erik: I am _not!_**

 **Authoress: If you are not, then why do you sound really congested? Or, why are you still sniffling and blowing your nose?**

 **Erik: ...*silence*...**

 **Authoress: That's what I thought. Now, do the disclaimer, I have some important news to tell the readers.**

 **Erik: *Glares* Authoress does not own any copyrighted material mentioned. This includes Phantom of the Opera, which is attributed to ALW and Leroux. The only thing she owns is Amethyst Dalvia and other original characters.**

* * *

Erik POV

He didn't even care that she was too busy looking around to notice him running towards the organ. There were tears streaming down my face, over the regular and deformed side. I didn't want her to see me like this, much less anyone.

Once I reached the organ, I put my head down, closed my eyes and just played. I did not hear anything but my own breathing and heartbeat, and time itself seemed to slow down as I played.

Ba-dum

I moved my fingers unconsciously over the keys.

Ba-dum

Tears streamed down my face.

Ba-dum

I thought of my Christine, her curly brown locks, and her beautiful green-grey eyes.

Ba-dum

I think I heard the music trickle into my ears until it became louder and louder.

Ba-dum

Time sped up again, and I heard a faint melody. It was accompanied with a hiccuping.

 _Is that me?_ , I thought. _No, I weep, I do not cry_. Then I remembered that there was someone with me.

I put my hand on my temples, and instead of my right hand hitting cold porcelain, it felt the edge of my bone.

My eyes shot open, and I instantly covered the mangled side of my face.

 _How the hell did both my mask **and** wig fall off?_

I looked toward my companion if she could even be called it. She looked at me with red, swollen, pity-filled eyes.

" _Pitiful creature of darkness,_ " she sang, as she stepped up to me.

Then she started crying even more. She could hardly keep the tremble out of her voice when she kissed my right hand, (the one covering my face) and whispered, "You are a monster, no matter what you think."

She was wrong. I had just scared away my only chance for a peaceful existence. I was not a human, much less loved, and I would never be loved by anyone in their right mind.

Then I realized what she had just done.

She kissed me, and even though it was just on my hand, no other living being had ever done so. Not even a dog had given me 'kisses'.

She gave me the one thing my own mother denied me. This woman, a stranger, had been kinder than my own mother.

"Come," she said, "you need to let out sadness, or else you will end up doing crazy things."

"Thank you," I whispered. God, I sounded so weak. No one had ever seen me like this, not even Madame Giry.

She smiled, sniffed, and wiped the tears and makeup off her face. "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine."

Then it was my turn to smile, even if it was barely a comfort.

"God," she said, "no one's ever seen me like this. I usually just cry in my room…"

"Alone?" He asked.

She smiled sadly and muttered, "Of course."

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle Amethyst-"

"Please, just Amethyst."

"Then, Amethyst, I am sorry for making you see the repulsive carcass that is my face. And, I thank you for giving me the one thing even my mother denied me."

Amethyst POV

She could barely keep herself from squeezing the life out of him with her giant bear hugs. She loved to give hugs.

 _Wow, I'm desperate for human contact_ , she thought. _At least, I'm not as bad as Erik, he put everything into his one stalkerish obsession._

He had a lot of demons, that man. It was the least she could do to offer him human contact. And she had to convince him that his face was not bad at all.  
As he bent down to retrieve his mask and wig, she said, "You know, your face is not ugly. In fact, I find you quite attractive."

He snorted. Putting his mask and wig back on, he replied, "Yes, and there is such thing as a horseless carriage."

"Actually," I quipped, "in 1886, Karl Benz made the first automobile, also known as a horseless carriage."

His face flushed. I started to chuckle, which turned into me bending over in laughter. My stomach started to hurt, but I could not stop laughing.

When I finally got myself under control, I was wiping tears out of my eyes. I looked up at him, and he looked offended. It was quite adorable, actually.

* * *

 **Erik: That is it?**

 **Authoress: Yes, unfortunaltelyI had to cut it short, otherwise I would have had to postpone the update until tomorrow.**

 **Erik: You need to get my life together.**

 **Authoress: You think I don't know that?**

 **Erik: Yes...**

 **Authoress: *Glares* _Anyways_ , I saw Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, and even though I sat way in the back, the musical was amazing. Plus, the Phantom with Easter Bunny ears, jumping around was too much to handle.**

 **Erik: Too bad _I_ could not go..**

 **Authoress: _Suck it up!_ You're fictional, you can't go!**

 **Erik: *Mutters* Stupid real people.**

 **Authoress: Anyways, next chapter will definitely be longer, and don't forget to favorite, follow, review, and comment! They are confidence boosters, and will make me push out chapters more often!**

 **And, if you have any questions, make sure to PM me from an account, so I can respond!**

 **Love you guys!**


	8. Her Accidental Betrayal

**Authoress: Hello lovelies! Happy Sunday!**

 **Erik: This episode of 'Time and Time Again' will be action packed, and by that I mean the original character and I will be laughing our buttocks off.**

 **Authoress: *cough* Update or chapter. *cough***

 **Erik: *rolls eyes* Also, it will be packed with feels and mysteries that will all be explained later...**

 **Authoress: *evil laughter***

 **Erik: And now the disclaimer: Authoress does not own anything but her OC. Now, shall we begin?**

 **Authoress: *evil smile* Oh, yes. This will put them in a state of fangirling, or as I call it, fanwarrioring.**

* * *

In no time, they were laughing and telling stories like old friends.

"Oh, okay, so one day," she said, "I'm sitting in a cafe with Haley. We were talking about this one boy I was interested in, and this guy overhears and walks up to the table. He says because we were having a heat wave that week, "Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?"

He cracked up. I continued, "And that's not all. His friends arrived, and they come up behind him, strike a ridiculous pose possible, and say, 'No…', Wait for it, ' it's us.'"

At that point, we were laughing like there was no tomorrow. I was holding my stomach tightly. Surprisingly, he fell off his piano bench and started rolling on the floor, which only made us laugh harder.

After an eternity, we finally stopped laughing, and I successfully pulled him off of the floor.

"Wow, Amethyst, who knew you had such comical stories?"

I chuckled a bit at that. "You just have to get to know me," I said.

He smiled back. "It appears I already have."

Then I realized my hair and makeup were probably ruined, so I decided to revert them to their original form. And by original form, I mean my messed up face and my unruly hair.

"Give me a moment," I said as I jogged over to the lake and splashed cold water over my face and hair.

Suddenly I thought, _Oh, what the hell?_ and dunked my head face-first into the frigid water.

"Dear God!" I screamed as soon as I lifted my face from the lake, whipping my short hair so it hit my back and water dripped from my face. Erik was at my side in an instant, concern seemingly ingrained in his brown eyes.

"Mademoiselle, are you-" He suddenly stopped speaking as the worry turned to shock, then to disbelief.

He muttered, "No, no it can't be.." As he quickly backed up, panic replaced the disbelief in his eyes.

"Erik?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

He just kept muttering, "No, no, no, no…", and as soon as I tried to get close to him, he recoiled even further. It seemed he was having a nervous breakdown coupled with a very frightening hallucination.

His voice reached a crescendo, and he said his muttering louder and louder until he screamed and curled up against the wall.

He was obviously hurt, and just the pain in his voice brought tears to my eyes.

"NO!"

Then he crumpled onto the floor. I ran over, straightened him up and checked his pulse. It was normal, and I let out a breath that I did not know I had been holding.

The Phantom of the Opera had fainted. What had driven him to such measures, I did not know, but it was obviously one of his demons from the past come back to haunt him.

 _Erik POV_

He didn't even have to think to help her when her cry rang out. He couldn't stop the worst possible situations from flipping through his mind, but when he looked her over quickly she seemed fine.

"Mademoiselle, are you-" Then he caught her eye, and his breath hitched.

She looked so much like Christine. Only a relative, or perhaps a twin would be able to look that similar.

Amethyst's face was rounder, her hair shorter, and her eyes wider. Her brunette locks had been straightened, and while they were almost to her bosom while straightened, her natural curls barely brushed past her shoulders. These and her makeup were the only reason she had not been recognized as his beloved under his attentive eye.

"No, no it can't be.." He muttered, backing up. He could not control his movement away from this woman who had invaded his life, nor the panic in his eyes.

"Erik?", she asked. "What's wrong?"

She had no right to ask what was wrong. She was the one causing it. Her green-grey eyes and her luscious curls which were now dripping wet were causing his mental breakdown.

 _Jesus, Erik, shape up,_ " thought the 0.1 % of his mind that could think rationally. But, it was immediately drowned out by the 99.9 % that was absolutely _**freaking out.**_

His mouth continued to move as he backed away, and his voice crescendoed, his screams blocking out any chance of Amethyst helping him.

Eventually, he backed up against the wall. He crouched down, out his hands over his ears, and screamed one final pain-ridden, "NO!"

Then everything went black.

* * *

 **Erik: I was in on this one, and may I just say, this was brilliant.**

 **Authoress: I agree. And while I hate being tormented by a writer like this, it is so fun to torment your readers.**

 **Erik/ Authoress: *High five***

 **Authoress: Until next time, lovelies. Please remember to favorite, follow, review, and comment, as they are confidence boosters. Also, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to PM me and I will try my best to answer then without spoiling a big surprise later. Have fun figuring this one out!**


	9. Dream Sequence

**Authoress: Hello again! I am so sorry for not posting for the last 2 weeks, I could not control it. My internet decided to crash on me for an entire week, and here in real life, things are really hectic. (Any I know that is such a lame excuse, but it is true.)**

 **Anyways, I have a review from a Guest to reply to.**

 **Erik: Yes, the amusing one about me dying. Do not worry, Guest, I will not die.**

 **Authoress: At least, not anytime soon.**

 **Erik: What?!**

 **Authoress: *snickers* Your face is hilarious.**

 **Erik: Shut up.**

 **Authoress: I refuse to. Anyways, I'm going to keep the readers in the dark for the few next chapters, as I will try to catch up this week, so be prepared for massive progression ... Please remember to leave your amusing panic attacks in the reviews. Take it away, Phantom!**

 **Erik: Hmph. The Authoress does not own anything that may be considered copyrighted, including Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, and any other musicals mentioned. All she owns is her OC.**

* * *

 _Erik POV_

Most nights of sleep were plagued with nightmares, and this was no exception. Even though he had fainted, the skeletons in his closet were too numerous to be contained for even one night.

I was first in a green valley, sitting in front of a beautiful organ. I looked down, and I was in my usual attire, suit, and white bow tie. I pressed my fingers gingerly to middle C and continued to play a simple melody. His muse's song was there, inside the organ. His music grew from a sweet pentatonic scale to a thundering song full of mystery and love. He closed his eyes. Never had he heard such power in music, much less his own.

Then the music turned to screams. My eyes flew open, and I looked down at my bloody hands and suit, then at the writhing girl strapped to a dirty wooden table. She was screaming as hard as she could, but her stomach was open and ready for torture.

No, no, no, no, no, he thought, I cannot be back in Persia. I was in the Opera House-

His thoughts were interrupted by the girl's- one of his previous victims- pleas. "Please, please, don't kill me," she sobbed, in a blend of Amethyst's, Christine's, and his mother's voice. He looked to her face, something he had never had the courage to do before, and found all the cruel features of his mother, but the beautiful eyes of the two women who tortured him with their beauty.

He looked around the dark and musty room. There were no guards on this execution, thank goodness. He quickly sewed her up, ignoring the screams, and unstrapped her. He helped her up, then practically carried her to the steel door, and ran through the castle's halls, making it to a secret corridor before the guards could do anything.

As soon as he closed the glass divider between him and the halls, he heard slurred laughing. He flinched. It was his mother's dreaded drunk excitement. It always meant that a beating was to come. His surroundings shifted to the tiny and bare attic that had served as his bedroom. His mother's footsteps echoed up the stairs. She opened the door, whip in one hand, bottle in the other. And look, she had brought another lover to laugh as she beat me to unconsciousness.

This one was incredibly handsome. His blue eyes and blond eyes were set perfectly on his pale, flushed face. He assumed the man had to be extremely cruel to have made it this far, otherwise, she would have kicked him out.

She stepped up to the dirty, matted straw that served as my bed, and yanked painfully what little hair I had at five, and flipped me onto my back. I heard the whip whistle through the air before it struck my back painfully.

After about 20 lashes, he heard an ethereal singing. My mother and her lover stopped taking turns whipping me and stared in wonder at the dark house suddenly bursting with sunlight.

Wait, I recognized that voice...and that language. It was the strange language Amethyst had first spoken in when she appeared in front of Christine's dressing room mirror. He let the strange syllables envelop him and heal his wounds. Suddenly, his mother turned back to him and whipped him one last time, and his eyes jolted open.

He was dreaming, thank God. He saw Amethyst, singing in front of the large bed, her back turned to me. She reached a higher tempo, and I closed my eyes and let the music envelop me as it had in my dream. It was not from an opera, but rather a musical, as the mix of music and singing was apparent.

Then the high note was sung. It was very strained, but with training, it would be pitch perfect. I could tell that she flinched when she sang it, so she could tell that her voice had given out. At least his prospective student didn't have an inflated ego. She knew that her voice had limits and that sometimes she could not cross those limits.

When the last note had been sung, he gave her praise as he had done with Christine:

"Brava, Brava, Bravissima…"

* * *

 **Authoress: There you have it, the first chapter in two weeks. I am really sorry about that, and hope to have the next two up by Sunday, but nobody's perfect.**

 **Erik: *cough***

 **Authoress: Not even a certain Opera Ghost that is in my presence. You tried to kill Raoul, remember?**

 **Erik: Did not! My lasso just...went around his neck...**

 **Authoress: And I suppose it just tightened itself and nearly strangled him while you two were making out, too?**

 **Erik: *silence***

 **Authoress: Exactly. But, readers, please remember to review, favorite, follow, and PM me if you have any questions. Who knows, maybe you will inspire me to write another chapter today! (Also, make sure you are signed in when you review/PM me because I would like to respond certain questions, and when there is a Guest, I cannot do so. I would love it if I could have a conversation with my readers.)**


	10. Old Wounds and New Friends

**Authoress: Hello lovelies! I was not able to finish the next chapter by today, so you will be getting two chapters next week! Yay! I have also realized I've spent too many chapters on one day, so I will try to speed things up a bit.**

 **Erik: Plus, some free time had arisen in her life, so she is able to update more.**

 **Authoress: Thank you, Erik. Take it away!**

 **Erik: Authoress does not own Phantom of the Opera, no matter how hard she wishes she did. Ooh, chocolate!**

* * *

I must have jumped 10 feet into the air when I heard the familiar notes. I had no idea that Erik was awake, much less able to sing. I turned around, furious. He had sat up and covered the imperfect side of his face with his hand.

"F- Damn it, Erik, why did you have to scare me like that!" I shouted. Meanwhile, an amused smile had taken residence on his face. It was obvious he was trying not to laugh.

"Well," he responded, "I just wanted to congratulate you on lovely singing. I would clap, but, well…" He gestured to his face. "On another note, you wouldn't happen to know where my mask went, would you?"

I laughed, my anger melting away at his bashfulness.

"I would," I said, walking up to the bed. I reached under the mattress to a hidden drawer, opened, and gently grasped the porcelain mask. I handed it to him, and his eyes thanked me for not taking his wig off as well. As he put it back on, I asked,

"Erik, just out of curiosity, why do you wear the mask and the wig? You actually look much better without them. If your friends prefer the covering of your face, then they are not your actual friends."

He looked down, his eyes pensive, then blurted out, "Are those my clothes?" I laughed again.

"Um… yeah. I took a bath and forgot to take my clothes off, so they are drying in the bathroom. I do hope you don't mind. The only other thing of yours that I used was the comb, as my hair needed to be untangled."

"And your… um… undergarments?"

"I borrowed from the stash you had. I'll give them back once I get my own. I assume they were for Christine?"

"Yes," he whispered. There was a pain in his eyes. I knew this whole conversation was to avoid my question, but I respected his privacy, even if I did know everything about him already. At the same, I had opened wounds either way, and I wanted to make it up to him.

"So… you were talking about my sinning?" He looked at me as if I had suddenly birthed a puppy.

"What?!" I realized my mistake. I burst out laughing, and he laughed with me.

"Ah- singing, not sinning!" My cheeks were as red as an apple.

"Good, I thought you had-" His face suddenly went slack.

"-killed someone…" he murmured.

 _Great. Another wound reopened,_ I thought. _What will cheer him up? Oh! Maybe a rather horrendous rendition of one of his future compositions will take his mind off things._

" _Who knows when love begins,"_ I sang softly. " _Who knows what makes it start?"_ He lifted his head, a slightly hopeful gleam in his eyes.

" _One day it's simply there, alive inside your heart._

" _It slips into your thoughts, it infiltrates your soul. It takes you by surprise, then seizes full control._

" _Try to deny it and try to protest. But love won't let you go once you've been possessed."_

There was silence. A sudden understanding between us, the fact that he had heard it in his mind.  
"Mademoiselle, y-you…"

"I sang something from your mind of music."

"How?" I shrugged. I knew perfectly well how, but I could not reveal that I was from a different time period.

" I don't know. Did I duplicate the words, too?"

" Yes. Even the language was the same. I knew some words from the song you sang when I woke up. What was it?"

"English. My native language. I also know French, Italian, Spanish, Russian, as well as basic German and Latin."

"Quite well versed for a… 16-year-old."

"17 actually. I was in a special academic program in 6ème and 5ème, or as we say in America, 6th, and 7th grade. It helped me to get into a… special school for girls, and from there I focused on my studies. I never really had time for any extracurricular activities, though I would have loved to be able to be in musicals and the like. By the way, I told the managers that I was Italian, so please uphold that lie. I've always wanted to be Italian."

"What was your favorite subject?"

We went back and forth like that, Erik getting to know me and asking many questions. I had to do a lot of diverting my actual life into late 17th-century life to avoid any suspicion. I was right in the middle of answering what felt like his 15th question when I realized that one of my favorite inventors lived in this time period.

He waved his hand in front of my face.

"Mademoiselle Amethyst?", he asked.

" Sorry, just lost in thought. What was your question again?"

"I asked if you had any vocal training."

"I have corresponded with several, and they have given me pointers on how to sing, but never actually taken a lesson," I lied. In reality, I had only seen YouTube videos on singing.

"So, would you be open taking one?" I was so shocked I had to physically stop my jaw from dropping.

"YES!" I shouted. Practically jumping off the bed, I pranced around the room. I was so happy. First, I had been magically transported into the musical, then had been asked to be the pupil of one of the greatest composers in all history, fiction or not. What would come next?

* * *

 **Authoress: There you go, the long awaited chapter 10. The inventor mentioned would be Nikola Tesla, a bit of a forgotten genius. I actually Erik and him would get along very nicely. I gave him a chocolate bar for being good in the intro and do he is off having a sugar rush. I lock him out of my room when he does that. Remember to review, favorite, and follow, as the constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, and there seems to be a lack. Have a wonderful week!**


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